Sun Flowers In The Wind
by MadonnaIsaBlondie
Summary: Living in her mother's shadow was always the biggest problem in Astrid's life. In the sequel to White Oleander Astrid once again goes threw the strugle and the pain of being in her mother's shadow. Will she survive like she once did?
1. Default Chapter

Sun Flowers In The Wind

Louis Capici

1

I laid on the small, wobbly bed, it made me sweat, and my body itch, I felt trapped in that small bed and I wished I could have floated away to another world. I was lost in Berlin, my heart was set out to be back home in L.A. where my mother was, finally free. I know that I was in her shadow all my life, and if she hadn't killed Barry I wouldn't have had to go to so many foster homes, she didn't think about what could have happened to me, inside I was full of rage when I thought about going back to see her, she killed poor Clare who I loved more than any one, she did it because she was jealous of how close I was with her. She didn't use poison, she used words, and what she did was killing me slowly as well.

I felt ugly, my long golden blond hair was short and black, I didn't want to look pretty, I didn't feel pretty inside so why should I have cared what I looked like outside? I looked as bad as the ugly hotel room. The walls were blank and white, and the white paint was peeling off. The room was slowly falling apart and empty, just two small un-comfortable beds, a night stand, and a small bathroom with a shower that only lets out cold water.

When I finally got up from that horrible bed I drank some chai tea with boiled milk. I looked out my window, a cold breeze came out and it made me shiver when it hit my pale skin. This hotel room had a horrible odor, it smelt like a mixture of the marijuana we were smoking, and the beer Paul had spilled all over the floor. I wanted to escape, but I loved Paul, he treated me better than any one I ever knew.

I saw a bunch of people protesting across the street, I had no idea what for, but I was amazed; I took a pencil out and started to draw the scene. There were all women, all of them were quite plump, but most of the fat was muscle. In the middle of the drawing I put my pencil down, I was drifting off and became un-interested. When I was done I didn't realize Paul was missing, he must have went to get himself something to eat, I thought, so I went back to that uncomfortable bed, it stung me like a sharp needle, I had already slept for thirteen hours, but for what ever reason I was still tired. I closed my dark empty eyes, and I was only awake in a dark dream.

When I woke up it was nine thirty at night. Paul left a note on a post-it saying "went to get some medicine" meaning acid. I felt achy all over, I had a head ach, my throat was soar, and I was really thirsty. I was in the mood for some "medicine" it would have took me out of that reality.

I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out for a walk, smoke, eat, drink, or sleep some more. Feeling hot and dirty I decided to take a shower. When I pulled off my robe I just stared through the dusty mirror, there were fingerprints all over it, little trails of dust, and a small crack in the right corner on the bottom. I looked at my body through the faded mirror. Paul thinks I am still pretty with my new hairstyle. My body could have been changed, my breasts were as big as a fifteen year olds, my skin was too pale, I was too skinny, my lips were pink but chapped and bleeding. When I finally got into the shower the cold water actually felt good, it cleaned off the sweat on my forehead, it cooled me down and made all the heat go away, when I got out and wrapped the rough white towel around me I started to shiver. When I put my robe on I heard a knock at the door. It was Paul wasted, he knocked three times, then finally got his key out, it took him awhile to put it through the hole.

"Hey baby", I hated when he called me that, it was so cliché, and it just made me want to vomit for whatever reason. "Whatever Paul. Why didn't you wake me up? I was sleeping for hours! I got up this afternoon and I had no idea where you were, I went back to sleep, and before you went out to get your medicine you should have woken me up!" I wasn't really mad, I just wanted to hold something against him, for whatever reason I was angry, and I couldn't figure out why. He opened his mouth about to say something but I interrupted, "Paul, we can't stay here any longer! This room is horrible, the beds are fucking killing me, the shower is too cold, this room smells, and I am tired of Berlin, its been a month now! I want to go to Paris, or Greece, or maybe Italy. But we can't stay in Europe forever, we need to go home, I want to see my…I want to see my mother and then maybe we could move to New York and we could go to college, and…" He interrupted me, "After all that your mother's done to you, you still want to fucking see her?" "Paul she's my mother! I know that if you had a chance to see your mother you would." "Yeah, well my mother was a crack addict and left me when I was six months old." "Paul, you're stoned, go lay down, go to sleep on that old thin bed, leave me alone in peace, I don't want to speak to you right now." Tears rushed out of my eyes and burned through my skin. I put clothes on and walked out the door, I went to the coffee shop across the street, it was called "Coffe für die Seele". I ordered some German tea and a croissant. I only ate half of it, how could I have felt hungry? This shop was too small, and I was the only one in there, this man kept on speaking to me in German, I still had tears in my eyes, I didn't know what to say so I kept on saying "Ja, ja, ja" Annoyed he rolled his eyes and walked out of the shop.

I loved Paul but he was so cruel to me for some reason. In that moment the thing I wanted most was for Paul to run after me, take me in his arms, kiss me with his soft lips, and for him just to tell me "I'm sorry", but he didn't. So I sat there, all alone. My plan was to leave Berlin at the end of the week with or without Paul.

When I went back to the hotel room Paul was sleeping on the bed. I saw a painting he drew, it was of me of course, my hair was long and blond again, I was sitting with my knees up and I had a bunch of sunflowers all around me. I looked pretty again in the picture. I went up to Paul and kissed his soft cheek, even though he said things that hurt me. I got changed, I had nothing on put my robe, I laid down next to Paul and went back to sleep with my arms wrapped around him.


	2. Chapter 2: A Letter To My Mother

Chapter 2: A letter to my mother

Gray clouds were all around me, the hot rain came down stinging me like a bee. The sound of the thunder felt like little drums pounding through my head. It was the fifth week that we were in Berlin. My plan to leave with or without Paul was demolished; we were planning to leave the week after.

I started to really hate Berlin. It was so dead there. I haven't drawn anything in weeks, at least nothing meaningful, my art was dying, I couldn't draw any more, and neither could Paul. All we were able to draw were pictures of each other.

I thought about my mother a lot. A part of me still belonged to her. I could just picture a time in L.A., I was twelve and the time was three fifteen a.m. She was combing her hair, and the breeze felt so nice and so warm, it wrapped me up in its arms. My mother asked me to join her, I refused. "I want you to feel the wind" she said, "I want you to feel the breeze". I knew that it must have felt really good from where she was sitting but I was just too frightened to sit on the edge of the roof. "I could feel it from here", I cracked a smile, she laughed "No you can't". She pulled me close to her. I laid my head on her breast it was like a pillow. She was stroking my hair, only the oleanders thrived. The night was beautiful and I was with my mother who might have actually cared about me. I decided to write her a letter, it was a month and a half since I've seen her. I never thanked her for finally letting go of me and setting me free when she decided not to use me and to make me lie in court and say that Barry raped us both. At least she did something for me for once.

The letter said:_August 16, 2003_

_Mother,_

_It is your daughter Astrid. I heard of your release and I want you to know I am very happy for you. There is something that I want you to know. I went to Florida and I met my father Klaus. He is older, and he has a wife and children, they looked at me as if I were a stranger, as if I was a fish on land. Klaus welcomed me in his small home; he was nice and made me feel as if he wanted to get to know me. He made me feel loved. Out of those short thirty minutes I haven't felt safer in my life. I want you to know that I can't believe you put me through so much, I can't believe you killed Barry without even thinking what it would do to me. And then your advice was for me to stay away from people because that's what you had to do being stuck in a small cage. Whoever I opened up to you didn't like. Star, Clare, and Paul. And you were so jealous that you got Clare to kill herself; my one question is how come you never wanted me to be happy? Why didn't you want me to live a better life than you had? I don't even know what happiness is, and it's all because of you. You took it from me, you killed it, and you want to know something else? What you've done is killing me. I bleed everyday because of my past, these bruises wont ever go away, and the cuts will never heal. I just want you to know that, and I hope that when I scratch my nails down someone else's back you feel it! I haven't made up my mind yet, I don't know if I want to come back to L.A. I hope this is killing you, and I hope this will make you feel more sorry than ever._

_-Astrid_

I sent the letter to our old address assuming she moved back to our old home. I didn't thank her for setting me free; when I was writing the letter my true feelings came out of my hand, I couldn't hold anything in. The pain was eating me alive slowly, my insides felt twisted, my heart felt crushed. Every anti-depressant I was taking was not going to heal the pain my mother put me through.


	3. Chapter 3: Paris At Last

3

My hair was getting longer and blond again, it was up to my shoulders. We were finally in Paris. We went site seeing every where, Versailles, The Eiffel Tower, we went to museums and saw all the fine art, Paul and I took at least twenty minutes to study each painting, each sculpture, pieces of clothing that the kings and queens used to wear. We drew complete copies of the clothes, sculptures, and paintings; it felt good to draw good again. The weather was crazy, one minute is was nice out and the sun went right through you, making you feel warm and happy, the next it dropped to thirty degrees and it would rain, I was always either too hot or too cold. Besides the fucked up weather it was so beautiful there, and I was so happy to be out of Berlin.

When we were on the tour bus heading to Versailles I laid my cheek on Paul's shoulder. His dark hair was up to his shoulder and it felt soft and warm. I smiled with my head there; I whispered, "It's so good to be free, so good to be away from horror. I love you." He held me tight and we started to make out. When we stopped I drifted off on his shoulder, and he was stroking my hair.

When we arrived to the beautiful Plaice that Marie Antoinette and king Louis the sixteenth once lived in my eyes were swept away to the beauty. The gates were marvelous; when we walked through them the ground was still the same from the seventeenth century. Going through the rooms my breath was took away by the great paintings, the furniture, and oh the beds! I couldn't stop, there was art everywhere, and the chandlers sparkled. We had a tour guide, she was telling us all the historical information. People used to watch Marie Antoinette and king Louis make love, they watched them when they went to the bathroom, they watched Marie Antoinette go through labor. I felt sorry for them, he couldn't really perform in bed and people used to watch and laugh.

When we reached the gardens I was amazed, it was gorgeous, I almost pictured myself as Marie Antoinette wearing a gorgeous golden gown, I had a gray wig on, and an umbrella in my hand from Italy, used for blocking the sun, and I was sitting on a bench with two men all over me.

Me and Paul walked all over the garden, then we sat on the grass in a private corner and drew everything, Paul's drawings were like comic books, but his weren't cartoons they were art. You see the difference is like what makes a joke a joke? A joke is what is supposed to be funny, art is supposed to mean something, and his comic style meant something. We smiled at each other our eyes couldn't part. When we finally got up we heard people speaking English! Paul and I just looked at each other and we both said in a whispered voice "Americans!" and we laughed. We went up to them. "Hi, I am Astrid, and this is Paul we are from L.A. in America, where are you from?" I was just so excited, the women just stared at me, her hair was brown and in a bun, she had sun glasses on, there was a younger women (about our age) with her, she looked like her, it must have been her daughter. "Oh we are from Canada" she said. "Well it's nice to meet you" said Paul. "Yeah you to." The older women rolled her eyes and they walked away. "Oh well, I guess we are not going to make any friends." I said giggling.

It was ten thirty at night when we got back home, we were exhausted from that long day, but we went out by the river. We sat on a bench; once again I had my head on Paul's shoulder. The sky was purple, with gray clouds, and it was lit up by the stars and the moon. I looked up at Paul, touched his chin, and then I pressed my lips against his. It warm and nice, we hadn't made love since three days before, I was hoping that night we would. In the middle of the river there stood the statue of liberty, I looked at Paul and whispered, "You know, we can see the real statue of liberty in New York." He giggled "and what is that? The fake one?" "No-" "Shut-up and kiss me".

We went back to the hotel room, we laid on the small bed, it was more comfortable than the one in Berlin. But I didn't care how small the bed was, how uncomfortable it was or wasn't, I was making love with Paul. It felt wonderful, my eyes lit up, he smiled, he smelt like fresh roses and sunflowers, it was nice to have a man that was clean. He ripped my clothes off, I ripped his off, we devoured each other, and we were never full, at least not until morning. I woke up in Paul's arms; he got up from the bed, kissed my head, and went into the shower. There were still little thunderbolts moving through my arms, my legs, and my back, it felt wonderful. I had on only a robe.

I opened the hotel window, stepped out onto the small balcony. The bar was very low; it was just below my waist, every apartment building I spotted had balconies. On top of the building across the street I saw a small statue of liberty, signs were signaled everywhere telling me to go to New York. When I stepped off the balcony and went back into our hotel room Paul was ready to go out and was dressed. He looked up at me; his eyes were so serious, "Aren't you going to get ready? If we are going to Le Luvre I think we should arrive early because it gets crowded and we might not be able to get in." "Paul, before we do anything we need to talk." "Oh my fucking God, all you ever want to do is talk! Can't we ever have a day without talking? Can't we just be peaceful and not worry about the future, or the PAST?" His face turned red and he was screaming. I felt so angry. "Fuck you Paul! What do you think the whole point of a fucking relationship is? I would like to think that you'd actually like to take the time to listen to your goddamn girl friend! Maybe I am just your friend with benefits! You are only twenty and I am nineteen, don't you want to go to college? Don't you want to get an apartment? We could get jobs and go to night school! Or we could get night jobs and go to regular college! I love Europe a lot, but it was your idea to come here, we didn't even plan it, look how long we were in Berlin! Paul we can't do this! We have no money, you need to cut down on the medicine, we can't afford it, and if things don't change I am leaving." "Go to fucking New York! That is your fucking dream not mine! Do what you want, leave me here, I don't care, I think it would be more peaceful with out you any way! Go!" He ran out the door and slammed it so hard. My heart was pounding, I was sobbing. I laid on the bed we made love on, wishing we hadn't. I couldn't stop crying, the tears felt like knives going through my skin. Paul betrayed me, he was selfish like my mother, he only cared about himself and he didn't want me to be happy. I got up from the bed three hours later, I took a shower, got dressed, and started to pack.

4

When I finished putting all of the luggage together I called the airport to book a flight out to L.A. I tried twice but I kept on hanging up the phone because I was crying. The third time I finally was able to call. "Salute, I am wondering if you have any flights open to fly out to L.A. I need the nearest-" I hung up, Paul was back. The first thing he did was stare at the luggage, and then our eyes locked. We stared at each other for about five minutes without saying a word. He was stoned, and he smelt of beer. When my face turned away I went out on the balcony to smoke a cigarette. As I inhaled the smoke it took over my body, it felt warm and nice; it took all the stress and pain away. When I let it out all the ashes were spread around the whole balcony. I walked back into the room. Paul was spying on me. I walked towards him, I fooled him by making him think I was about to touch him, he was about to take my hand, but I turned it away, acting as though I was really just getting my luggage. When I walked towards the door to leave I turned my head around, he was still just staring, "Goodbye Paul" was all I could say. I had a hat on and sunglasses, my hair was pulled up. As I headed towards the elevator my round suitcase opened, all of my artwork came dashing out, and it spread all over the place. As I put my stuff back into the suitcase the elevator came, "Hold the elevator!" I shouted, when I got up I turned around; some strange man was starring at me with passion in his eyes. I ran to the elevator and thanked the women who held it.

When I got outside it started to rain. I tried to call three cabs, they just passed my way. I had no where to go, I turned my face looking back at the hotel, I was trying to see if Paul ran after me, if he was going to beg me not to leave. To my surprise I saw the man who was staring at me in the hall at the hotel. "Ms. How would you like some company tonight? I am in a suite, I have lots of food, a bottle of champagne, a ton of dessert, and I want someone to share it with." He was Irish, and his eyes were telling me he wanted something more than someone to share his food with. I was so mad at Paul and I wanted to be with someone else to get him back, I also didn't have anywhere to go. "If I come with you I think we won't be eating anything till tomorrow afternoon" I said to him. I took his hand and we walked back inside the hotel. He made out with me in the elevator and pulled up my skirt, "my, my you naughty boy!" He laughed. When we got to the hall my blouse was already ripped open. When we got to the suite there wasn't food to be found. "Where's all the food?" I laughed, "Come over here, come over here!" I screamed. I ripped his shirt off with my mouth. When we made love he was horrible in bed, I think the reason I couldn't enjoy it was Paul, I couldn't stop thinking of him, we had a small fight but he told me he would be happier if I left, so why did I feel so bad?

In the morning I ordered room service, the man was sleeping; I didn't even know his name. I had a croissant and some tea. When I was done I laid on the bed next to the man, I kissed him softly on the cheek, I took my bags, I had on the same hat and sunglasses. I looked at him "Goodbye Irish boy. It was fun wasn't it?" He had nothing on but a sheet covering his lower body, he turned from his right side to his left. When I walked out of the door I heard another door open, the next door, I didn't realize I was staying right next door! Paul came out and stared at me with his serious eyes. "Astrid?" he said in shock, "what were you doing next door?" "Why didn't you come after me? Why goddamn it? If you loved me, why didn't you run after me and kiss me, pull me in your arms and say 'I'm sorry'? Fuck you Paul! Its over!" I was too upset to explain. My stomach felt twisted, I was tired, and light headed. "You are a cheap whore! Fuck you, you stupid slut! The minute you leave me you sleep with someone else? Drop dead!" "You want to know something Paul? That man in there made better love to me than you ever could!" I saw the staircase headed to the lobby down the hall, I ran towards it. I ran down the stairs so fast that I tripped down the last three steps. I was sobbing, everyone saw me. Some women came over to me to help me up "Get the fuck away!" I screamed, "Get away!"

When I ran outside I got a cab. We were headed to Charles DeGaulle airport. When we got there I went to five different people asking them where you purchase air tickets, none of them even answered me. I felt trapped and I started to cry again. I went in the bathroom and rubbed water on my eyes, which were red. When I stopped I went up to someone at air Canada. "Excuse me do you know where to purchase tickets to America?" She said nothing. "God nobody knows where anything fucking is!" As I turned away she said "Maybe if you smiled and said 'bonjour' 'good day', then maybe I would have helped you!" "FUCK YOU! Go to hell you stupid bitch!" I screamed. Everyone stared; she looked at me in shock.

An hour later I found the place to purchase tickets to America on American Airlines. I went up to the counter "Excuse me Mille. I need tickets for the next flight to Los Angeles" "Ok, that would be tonight at ten thirty" she said in a French accent. "How much?" "Three hundred euros." which was six hundred fifty dollars American money. "Fine." I showed her my passport, I gave her the money and I went to the terminal. When I got to the terminal I couldn't believe that I was actually going home.


	4. Chapter 4: Leaving Paris

Chapter 4: Leaving Paris

When I finished putting all of the luggage together I called the airport to book a flight out to L.A. I tried twice but I kept on hanging up the phone because I was crying. The third time I finally was able to call. "Salute, I am wondering if you have any flights open to fly out to L.A. I need the nearest-" I hung up, Paul was back. The first thing he did was stare at the luggage, and then our eyes locked. We stared at each other for about five minutes without saying a word. He was stoned, and he smelt of beer. When my face turned away I went out on the balcony to smoke a cigarette. As I inhaled the smoke it took over my body, it felt warm and nice; it took all the stress and pain away. When I let it out all the ashes were spread around the whole balcony. I walked back into the room. Paul was spying on me. I walked towards him, I fooled him by making him think I was about to touch him, he was about to take my hand, but I turned it away, acting as though I was really just getting my luggage. When I walked towards the door to leave I turned my head around, he was still just staring, "Goodbye Paul" was all I could say. I had a hat on and sunglasses, my hair was pulled up. As I headed towards the elevator my round suitcase opened, all of my artwork came dashing out, and it spread all over the place. As I put my stuff back into the suitcase the elevator came, "Hold the elevator!" I shouted, when I got up I turned around; some strange man was starring at me with passion in his eyes. I ran to the elevator and thanked the women who held it.

When I got outside it started to rain. I tried to call three cabs, they just passed my way. I had no where to go, I turned my face looking back at the hotel, I was trying to see if Paul ran after me, if he was going to beg me not to leave. To my surprise I saw the man who was staring at me in the hall at the hotel. "Ms. How would you like some company tonight? I am in a suite, I have lots of food, a bottle of champagne, a ton of dessert, and I want someone to share it with." He was Irish, and his eyes were telling me he wanted something more than someone to share his food with. I was so mad at Paul and I wanted to be with someone else to get him back, I also didn't have anywhere to go. "If I come with you I think we won't be eating anything till tomorrow afternoon" I said to him. I took his hand and we walked back inside the hotel. He made out with me in the elevator and pulled up my skirt, "my, my you naughty boy!" He laughed. When we got to the hall my blouse was already ripped open. When we got to the suite there wasn't food to be found. "Where's all the food?" I laughed, "Come over here, come over here!" I screamed. I ripped his shirt off with my mouth. When we made love he was horrible in bed, I think the reason I couldn't enjoy it was Paul, I couldn't stop thinking of him, we had a small fight but he told me he would be happier if I left, so why did I feel so bad?

In the morning I ordered room service, the man was sleeping; I didn't even know his name. I had a croissant and some tea. When I was done I laid on the bed next to the man, I kissed him softly on the cheek, I took my bags, I had on the same hat and sunglasses. I looked at him "Goodbye Irish boy. It was fun wasn't it?" He had nothing on but a sheet covering his lower body, he turned from his right side to his left. When I walked out of the door I heard another door open, the next door, I didn't realize I was staying right next door! Paul came out and stared at me with his serious eyes. "Astrid?" he said in shock, "what were you doing next door?" "Why didn't you come after me? Why goddamn it? If you loved me, why didn't you run after me and kiss me, pull me in your arms and say 'I'm sorry'? Fuck you Paul! Its over!" I was too upset to explain. My stomach felt twisted, I was tired, and light headed. "You are a cheap whore! Fuck you, you stupid slut! The minute you leave me you sleep with someone else? Drop dead!" "You want to know something Paul? That man in there made better love to me than you ever could!" I saw the staircase headed to the lobby down the hall, I ran towards it. I ran down the stairs so fast that I tripped down the last three steps. I was sobbing, everyone saw me. Some women came over to me to help me up "Get the fuck away!" I screamed, "Get away!"

When I ran outside I got a cab. We were headed to Charles DeGaulle airport. When we got there I went to five different people asking them where you purchase air tickets, none of them even answered me. I felt trapped and I started to cry again. I went in the bathroom and rubbed water on my eyes, which were red. When I stopped I went up to someone at air Canada. "Excuse me do you know where to purchase tickets to America?" She said nothing. "God nobody knows where anything fucking is!" As I turned away she said "Maybe if you smiled and said 'bonjour' 'good day', then maybe I would have helped you!" "FUCK YOU! Go to hell you stupid bitch!" I screamed. Everyone stared; she looked at me in shock.

An hour later I found the place to purchase tickets to America on American Airlines. I went up to the counter "Excuse me Mille. I need tickets for the next flight to Los Angeles" "Ok, that would be tonight at ten thirty" she said in a French accent. "How much?" "Three hundred euros." which was six hundred fifty dollars American money. "Fine." I showed her my passport, I gave her the money and I went to the terminal. When I got to the terminal I couldn't believe that I was actually going home.


	5. Chapter 5: Back To LA

Sun Flowers In The Wind

Louis Capici

1

I laid on the small, wobbly bed, it made me sweat, and my body itch, I felt trapped in that small bed and I wished I could have floated away to another world. I was lost in Berlin, my heart was set out to be back home in L.A. where my mother was, finally free. I know that I was in her shadow all my life, and if she hadn't killed Barry I wouldn't have had to go to so many foster homes, she didn't think about what could have happened to me, inside I was full of rage when I thought about going back to see her, she killed poor Clare who I loved more than any one, she did it because she was jealous of how close I was with her. She didn't use poison, she used words, and what she did was killing me slowly as well.

I felt ugly, my long golden blond hair was short and black, I didn't want to look pretty, I didn't feel pretty inside so why should I have cared what I looked like outside? I looked as bad as the ugly hotel room. The walls were blank and white, and the white paint was peeling off. The room was slowly falling apart and empty, just two small un-comfortable beds, a night stand, and a small bathroom with a shower that only lets out cold water.

When I finally got up from that horrible bed I drank some chai tea with boiled milk. I looked out my window, a cold breeze came out and it made me shiver when it hit my pale skin. This hotel room had a horrible odor, it smelt like a mixture of the marijuana we were smoking, and the beer Paul had spilled all over the floor. I wanted to escape, but I loved Paul, he treated me better than any one I ever knew.

I saw a bunch of people protesting across the street, I had no idea what for, but I was amazed; I took a pencil out and started to draw the scene. There were all women, all of them were quite plump, but most of the fat was muscle. In the middle of the drawing I put my pencil down, I was drifting off and became un-interested. When I was done I didn't realize Paul was missing, he must have went to get himself something to eat, I thought, so I went back to that uncomfortable bed, it stung me like a sharp needle, I had already slept for thirteen hours, but for what ever reason I was still tired. I closed my dark empty eyes, and I was only awake in a dark dream.

When I woke up it was nine thirty at night. Paul left a note on a post-it saying "went to get some medicine" meaning acid. I felt achy all over, I had a head ach, my throat was soar, and I was really thirsty. I was in the mood for some "medicine" it would have took me out of that reality.

I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out for a walk, smoke, eat, drink, or sleep some more. Feeling hot and dirty I decided to take a shower. When I pulled off my robe I just stared through the dusty mirror, there were fingerprints all over it, little trails of dust, and a small crack in the right corner on the bottom. I looked at my body through the faded mirror. Paul thinks I am still pretty with my new hairstyle. My body could have been changed, my breasts were as big as a fifteen year olds, my skin was too pale, I was too skinny, my lips were pink but chapped and bleeding. When I finally got into the shower the cold water actually felt good, it cleaned off the sweat on my forehead, it cooled me down and made all the heat go away, when I got out and wrapped the rough white towel around me I started to shiver. When I put my robe on I heard a knock at the door. It was Paul wasted, he knocked three times, then finally got his key out, it took him awhile to put it through the hole.

"Hey baby", I hated when he called me that, it was so cliché, and it just made me want to vomit for whatever reason. "Whatever Paul. Why didn't you wake me up? I was sleeping for hours! I got up this afternoon and I had no idea where you were, I went back to sleep, and before you went out to get your medicine you should have woken me up!" I wasn't really mad, I just wanted to hold something against him, for whatever reason I was angry, and I couldn't figure out why. He opened his mouth about to say something but I interrupted, "Paul, we can't stay here any longer! This room is horrible, the beds are fucking killing me, the shower is too cold, this room smells, and I am tired of Berlin, its been a month now! I want to go to Paris, or Greece, or maybe Italy. But we can't stay in Europe forever, we need to go home, I want to see my…I want to see my mother and then maybe we could move to New York and we could go to college, and…" He interrupted me, "After all that your mother's done to you, you still want to fucking see her?" "Paul she's my mother! I know that if you had a chance to see your mother you would." "Yeah, well my mother was a crack addict and left me when I was six months old." "Paul, you're stoned, go lay down, go to sleep on that old thin bed, leave me alone in peace, I don't want to speak to you right now." Tears rushed out of my eyes and burned through my skin. I put clothes on and walked out the door, I went to the coffee shop across the street, it was called "Coffe für die Seele". I ordered some German tea and a croissant. I only ate half of it, how could I have felt hungry? This shop was too small, and I was the only one in there, this man kept on speaking to me in German, I still had tears in my eyes, I didn't know what to say so I kept on saying "Ja, ja, ja" Annoyed he rolled his eyes and walked out of the shop.

I loved Paul but he was so cruel to me for some reason. In that moment the thing I wanted most was for Paul to run after me, take me in his arms, kiss me with his soft lips, and for him just to tell me "I'm sorry", but he didn't. So I sat there, all alone. My plan was to leave Berlin at the end of the week with or without Paul.

When I went back to the hotel room Paul was sleeping on the bed. I saw a painting he drew, it was of me of course, my hair was long and blond again, I was sitting with my knees up and I had a bunch of sunflowers all around me. I looked pretty again in the picture. I went up to Paul and kissed his soft cheek, even though he said things that hurt me. I got changed, I had nothing on put my robe, I laid down next to Paul and went back to sleep with my arms wrapped around him.


End file.
